


Believing

by sahiya



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/pseuds/sahiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River doesn't really care for Christmas, but the Doctor won't take no for an answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Believing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaffyr (kaffyrutsky)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaffyrutsky/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, Kaffyr!

Christmas, the Doctor had long decided, was all the things he loved best about humanity rolled into one nice, neat package. It was peace and love and goodwill. It was delicious food and family and friends and warmth at the coldest part of the year. It was just a bit magic, too, and even though the Doctor didn't really believe in magic, at Christmas he sometimes though he might believe in miracles.

Of course, Christmas was also shopping and commercialism and loads of stress, but the Doctor preferred to skip those bits and go straight to the day itself. One of the brilliant parts of having a TARDIS was that in a sense, it was _always_ Christmas, or at least the Doctor could wake up pretty much any day and decide that he felt like having a Christmas. He didn't do it too often, because Christmas was like gingerbread - too much of it and it started to make you sort of sick - but sometimes he just got a hankering.

Today, for instance.

"Doctor," River said, when he picked her up from the Stormcage for their nightly jaunt, "what in the name of Time have you got on your head?"

"It's a Father Christmas hat!" the Doctor declared, shaking his head to make the bell in the white pompom jingle. "Father Christmas hats are cool. Especially on Christmas, which is when we're going. Christmas dinner with your parents," he said, twirling around the console, "I thought you'd like that. First we have to stop and get a bottle of the Grefovinig'lian wine Rory likes, but after that -"

"Doctor," River said, "I'd prefer we didn't."

"Don't be silly, Rory loved that wine, and of course there's no way for him to get any on Earth -"

"That's not what I meant," River said. She had that pinched look that the Doctor had learned meant she was trying to be patient with him and failing. "I don't really care for Christmas, so if it's all the same to you, I'd rather we visited my parents some other day."

The Doctor stared. "You don't care for Christmas?"

"That is what I said."

"But - _why not_?"

River shrugged. "I think it's one of those things you have to grow up with or it just doesn't make sense."

"I didn't grow up with it!" the Doctor said. "We didn't have anything like it on Gallifrey, all our holidays were so dull and boring and involved itchy robes. But Christmas - _Christmas_ is brilliant! Don't you like presents, River? I know you like presents. And snow and too many sweets and a good wizard in a red hat!" He jingled his own hat for emphasis. "What is there not to like?"

"Sometimes, you don't have family," she said, very evenly, "or presents or snow or sweets, and you know there's no such thing as a good wizard to grant your wishes. And when that's true, Christmas doesn't mean anything at all."

The Doctor frowned. River looked down at the console and stroked her hand along its edge. He pulled off the hat and tossed it away, then sidled around until he was next to her. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. "Except you do have those things now," he told her. "You have a family, and you can have all the rest, too, if you want it. Because you also have your very own good wizard.”

She gave a small snort of amusement. "You're so full of yourself."

"And you love me for it." He tapped her nose.

She smiled. "All right, Doctor. If you insist."

"I do insist. It'd mean a lot to Amy and Rory if we came for Christmas dinner," the Doctor said, retrieving his hat and throwing a lever to put the TARDIS in flight. "And you, River, need to learn the true meaning of Christmas!"

River rolled her eyes, reached over, and released the brakes.

***

Five hours and twenty-six minutes later, after a brief stop on Grefovinig'lopia for Rory's wine and a delicious and only mildly awkward Pond family Christmas dinner (especially considering that Amy and Rory had never quite found a way to explain River to their parents), he found River sitting outside on their back porch, staring up at the crystal clear sky. He'd promised her snow but he hadn't quite managed it. Next time, maybe.

"So," he said, plunking his Father Christmas hat down onto her head before sitting beside her. "Did you learn the true meaning of Christmas?"

"I did," River said, shaking her head to dislodge the hat, "if Christmas truly means eating until you can't move."

"Well, yes," the Doctor said, grabbing the hat before she could decide to shoot it, "but no. But also yes."

River laughed. In the cold, clear winter air, it sounded like bells. No, actually, the Doctor realized, that _was_ bells - it was the village church, ringing in the midnight services. "Well, I suppose I can see the point in that," River said.

"But that's not it, not really," the Doctor said, a little frustrated. "River, didn't you have fun tonight? Amy and Rory were so glad to see us." Mostly, the Doctor suspected, they'd been glad to see River, but he was all right with that. It was his fault their daughter had been taken from them; the least he could do was give her back every once in a while.

"I know they were," River said, "and I'm glad we came for their sake. And I did enjoy being with them, I just don't understand why I should enjoy it more today of all days. It's an arbitrary day, Doctor, especially for two time travelers. Why should I be more happy to be with you on Christmas than on all the other days of the year?"

The Doctor frowned. "Because."

"Because why? And you aren't allowed to say _because it's Christmas_."

The Doctor took his time answering. There wasn't a good answer to that, he finally decided, or at least not one that River would be happy with. She hadn't grown up celebrating any feast days at all, he supposed, and the truth was that most holidays, if you spent long enough poking at them with a mental stick, just didn't make much sense.

"What do you believe in, River?" he asked at last. "What do you have faith in?"

She glanced at him, appeared to consider telling him that that was not in any way a satisfactory answer to her question, and then seemed to decide to play along. "I believe in us," she said at last. "You and me, time and space."

The Doctor smiled, a little sadly. "And that's it, River Song? That's all you believe in?"

"Yes," she said. "You know me, Doctor. I'm nothing if not a pragmatist. You're the dreamer in this relationship."

"Yes," he said, tilting his head back to stare up at the stars. "And as such, I can tell you - Christmas is about belief. Religious belief, for some people, but for others it's just belief in whatever they believe in. And I believe . . . I believe that deep down, humans want to treat each other with kindness. I know they don't always," he added, as River opened her mouth. "I know that history is full of times they didn't, I don't need a list. But I believe they _want_ to, and sometimes they even succeed. And that's what Christmas is about for me. Believing.”

River was silent for a long time. The Doctor sat quietly, content for once not to speak. After a time, Amy stuck her head out and said, "Are you two staying the night? Should I make up the guestroom? Rory's making cinnamon scones in the morning."

The Doctor glanced at River, who remained silent. He sighed. "No, I think we'll be -"

"Yes," River said.

The Doctor came to a rather abrupt halt mid-sentence and had to regroup. "Uh, yes," he said, "we will. Be staying the night, that is. Thanks."

Amy disappeared back inside, and the Doctor turned to look at River. "You do realize that tomorrow's Christmas, too, don't you?" he said. "It's Christmas Day, even, _proper_ Christmas."

She smiled. "Yes, Doctor, I know." She looked down at her hands. "I don't know if I can believe in anything, much less the things you said. But I think . . . it might be nice to try."

The Doctor smiled, took her hand, and kissed the back of her knuckles. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet, River Song.” Not that it wouldn't be a challenge, but the Doctor liked challenges.

"I hope so," River said, accepting his hand up. "I really do."

Together, they went inside.

 _Fin._


End file.
